Threat Level: Angel
by Azalea419
Summary: Wanted on 18 different planets for multiple crimes and the mass murder of his twenty siblings, Castiel Novak is number one on the Federation's Most Wanted list. Who better than the Winchesters, the best of the best, to take down the worst of the worst? But what was supposed to be a routine manhunt, becomes more complicated when they discover he isn't who they think he is. Calex!AU
1. Chapter 1

**This shall be a short AU fic consisting of maybe five or six short chapters. I'm not planning to do much with it. This AU is set in the future where the world consists of multiple planets and future-like things (think of Riddick or Star Trek). Alex Winchester is an OC created by the lovely River Winters and Sam's twin sister.**

**Full Summary: **Wanted on eighteen different planets for multiple counts of grand theft, robbery, burglaries, home invasions, trespassing, fraud, arson, aggravated assault, felony warrant evasions, and most infamously, the mass murder of all twenty of his siblings, Castiel Novak is number one on the Federation's Most Wanted list. And who better than the Winchesters, the best of the best, to take down the worst of the worst? But what was supposed to be a relatively routine manhunt becomes much more complicated when their criminal isn't really who they think he is.

**Notes: Inspired by Chronicles of Riddick and "Song Remains the Same" by River Winters. **

**Please R&R! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.**

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The youngest Winchester brushed the hair back from her sweat-covered forehead. She knew, without looking, that she'd left a trail of grease and grime behind. Her hands, arms, and generally her whole body were covered with it. Showers were only a luxury that could be afforded once they'd completed a decent job or when Dean decided to actually dock on a nice, clean planet with a society that cared for hygiene. She sat at the head of their beloved ship, _The Impala_, monitoring the many screens that displayed and analyzed the functions of their spacecraft. Her father had bought it many years ago and it had been with the family for as long as she could remember. She had grown up in this ship, playing with Sam among its deck, eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner just behind the pilot's seat, and she knew every metallic nook and cranny. _The Impala_ was sleek, black, old, and her home.

_The Impala_ was also built for bounty hunters and her father had bought it as such; small and light enough to make a fast getaway, but strong and armed to the teeth for a chase or a fight if needed. It was also fitted with all the best tools for a job: weapons, seat-barracks, and of course, the criminal lockdown chair built into the very back of the ship. The Winchesters were – and had always been – in the family business of bounty hunting. They'd taken down some of the worst criminals in recorded history, and if memory served her correctly, the most. Along with her brothers, Dean and Sam, she had been born to bounty hunt. Her great-grandparents, her grandparents, dozens of cousins, and her parents had all died doing this job. She would be no different.

"Get out of my chair, Al."

She rolled her eyes and pressed the button to swivel the chair around, facing her oldest (if not, most annoying) brother. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, arms crossed over his chest and an almost amused look on his face. She surrendered the seat to him, reluctant to leave behind her few moments of imagined captainship. Dean Winchester, captain of _The Impala_, sat down in the pilot's seat and ran his gloved hand over the console lovingly. They all wore fingerless gloves; it was part of the uniform. As was the high-top, double-lace, waterproof tactical boots with nifty hiding places for dozens of knives. Dean had used his own money to buy two thigh holsters, two hip holsters, a chest sling with too many pockets for ammo, and an unnecessarily expensive pair of captain's goggles – and a bunch of guns. He was big on guns. Their entire armory was almost all composed of guns (assault rifles, shotguns, long guns, miniguns, handguns, pistols, machine guns, you get the picture), always the best and newest the black market had to offer, plus the knives, swords, ulaks, knuckle dusters, shivs, razors, daggers, and other long, pointy objects that they picked up along the way. It really was quite impressive. She herself was more preferential to guns over knives because she was small and close-quarter combat wasn't her best skill. And her aim was perfect, even Dean said so.

"We're almost there, ten klicks out from the atmosphere," She said helpfully, leaning over the back of the chair to see the command console for herself.

Dean nodded, flicking a few switches. "Get Sammy and start preparing."

She sighed, and turned away from Dean to run the few steps it took to get to Sammy's seat (configured into barrack-mode) and jumped on top of her twin brother.

"Up and at 'em, Sammy boy!"

"Ungfh! Gerrofme!" Sam Winchester groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as he used the other hand to push his sister off him. He undid the straps that held him securely in his seat-bed, yawning widely. Alex ruffled his hair.

"Don't want to miss all the action, Sam," She said cheerfully.

He opened one eye to glare at her resentfully.

She slapped a hand, hard, against his bare chest. "We're almost there. Better get ready."

He mumbled a few not-so-nice things, but ignored him in favor of unlocking the armory that covered the panels and filled the trunks lined up against the wall across from their seats. She would never get tired of arming up. The ship itself seemed to hum in contentment as the Winchester twins began their muscle-memory routine of loading themselves with armaments and weapons. She slid four handguns home to their respective thigh and hip holsters (just like Dean's), filling the pouches on her duty belt with magazines; six knives, four shivs, and two razors disappeared into sheaths on the same belt, secret places under her clothing, and those hidey places in her boots. Another two miniguns disappeared into her boots. _A girl's gotta have her surprises_. Usually she didn't carry heavy guns, but she slung an assault rifle onto her back anyway because this hunt wasn't a normal, easy operation.

This time, they were going after the notorious, high-profile criminal known as Castiel Novak.

Wanted on eighteen different planets for multiple counts of grand theft, robbery, burglaries, home invasions, trespassing, fraud, arson, aggravated assault, felony warrant evasions, and most infamously, the mass murder of all twenty of his siblings, Castiel Novak was number one on the Federation's (the government system that ruled the five-hundred seventy-four different planets in eleven different galaxies) Most Wanted list; and unfortunately, that was a very _long_ list. The Federation's armada had spent the last fourteen years chasing this man across the universe – to no avail. As far as she knew, nobody even knew what Castiel looked like. So of course, driven to desperate circumstances, the Federation had contracted the Winchesters (because bounty hunters weren't confined by legal matters) to hunt this man down for a very generous bounty of $1.5 million. Alex had never taken such a high-risk, high-paying job before and she knew her brothers were excited about it.

After all, how hard could it be?


	2. Chapter 2

**Calex is perfection. KATIE, EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT.**

**I love Supernatural. **

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not the owner of anything but parts of the plot.**

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2.

"Son of a bitch!"

Alex cursed very loudly, clamping on arm down on the wound in her shoulder that was now dripping blood and radiating pain; though, no one heard her in the chaos that surrounded the quad. Shots flew and things exploded as dirt and rubble rained down on her from above.

She'd never expected this job to be so messy.

They'd tracked Castiel to Aquila Major, the capital of the Aquila System and home to the most altruistic race in the Federation. It made sense for him to seek sanctuary there, but it also made it hard for the experienced bounty hunters to enter undetected. With skillful maneuvering on Dean's part, they'd managed to dock _The Impala_ in an abandoned repair bay with the help of a couple of friends (really people that owed Dean and Sam favors; they had people like that everywhere). That wasn't the hard part though. The hard part would have been extracting the target without tipping of the Aquilan Security Corp. But they'd never even made it that far. As soon as Winchester boots had hit the ground, word came that Castiel was already on board a ship heading towards Helion Prime, the tricky bastard. How the hell he'd been tipped off about their arrival, they never knew, but Dean and Sam were in a foul mood after going through all that trouble to dock the spaceship. Taking the initiative, Dean had called for back-up, a few bounty hunters that the Winchesters were familiar with, had worked with back in the day and respected – Bobby Singer, Ellen, and Jo Harvelle. The Winchesters considered them family friends. Together, the two ships raced towards Helion Prime, hoping to catch their criminal before he had the chance to flee the planet. After narrowly outflying the dogged ships of the Helion Air Force, Dean had Alex gather enough intel that eventually pointed in the direction of New Mecca. After surrounding the house Castiel had trespassed into, Dean – always the impulsive one – had given the signal for a full frontal charge, guns blazing.

And that was how Alex had ended up with a damn bullet in her shoulder.

Blood matted one side of her head, well into her hairline where she'd been caught by surprise by the butt end of another gun. Her knuckles were swollen and bruised from throwing punches into well-maintained muscle and she had a few scratches from where a couple knives had gotten lucky. She'd lost two of her guns in the initial fight (it seemed Castiel had friends here that were willing to die for him), and her adrenaline was shooting to all new heights. She made to turn around, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the opposing men pointing a pistol in her direction. But Alex had been shot many times before, and this was no different. Without missing a beat, she lifted her assault rifle, finger already on the trigger, and pulled. She aimed methodically, her gasping breaths sounding loud in her ears as the man went down. There was no time to recover as two more men came at her with wicked sharp daggers. She made quick work of them with the butt of her assault rifle, slashing with the shivs that seemed to just appear in her nimble and capable hands. It was all muscle memory. Dean sprayed bullets in a seemingly hazardous manner, but they hit the target every time. She reached out to Sam, who was cutting men down every which way with an ulak in one hand and a semi-automatic in the other. Falling into a familiar rhythm, the twins became one as Sam flexed the arm that she grasped, using her running momentum to swing her into the air, the hidden shivs in her boots making quick work of the men that tried to rush Sam. For a moment, she remained suspended in the air above his head and they both pulled the triggers of their respective weapons in opposite directions. She tucked her chin into her chest, landing with a back-flip on Sam's other side, swinging her free arm to pistol-whip another man that rushed them. Alex allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk at the flawlessness of their movements. They were synchronized, they were deadly, and the Winchester twins were not to be trifled with. Having cleared their area of armed men for the next few seconds, both siblings looked towards their older brother. Dean was back to back with Jo and she could almost hear them laughing together as they littered the air with machine gun bullets. Alex always did like Jo; the lithe blonde was every bit as good with knives as Dean was with guns.

She was just beginning to enjoy the fight when the tide of the battle turned. Something heavy smashed into her back with great force.

"Al!" Sam screamed her name from somewhere behind her.

A cry of surprise left her lips as she fell forward on her hands and knees. She rolled to soften the motion, shoulder throbbing, already gripping her favorite knife in one hand and the finger of the other hand half-pressing the trigger of the minigun she'd hidden in her boot. However, a hand fisted into her hair, yanking her up roughly, and suddenly she was on her knees with a cold blade against the smooth skin of her neck. She dropped both of her weapons in shock.

"Stop, or she dies!"

A man's voice pierced through the din of the firefight and her brothers and friends immediately froze in her movements. Ellen and Bobby were standing side by side, guns gripped tightly in their hands; Jo stood a little behind Dean, three knives in each hand; Dean, looking livid, held his machine gun aloft, still ready to begin spreading lead at a moment's notice; and Sam's expression could only be described as horrified as he saw his sister with a knife to her neck. The fight turned into a standoff; the men they'd been fighting had lowered their weapons at the commanding voice.

Alex struggled to loosen the death grip she'd gotten caught in, fingernails raking against a muscular arm, but the man was too strong and pressed a knee sharply into the center of her back to still her movements. She could feel the smooth, defined planes of a stomach brushing against the back of her head as he leaned forward a little to accommodate the hold he had on her. The pain from the bullet wound came back with renewed vigor now that she wasn't distracted by fighting adrenaline and her arms dropped limply to her sides. She couldn't see the face of her attacker and she was frustrated that she was the one to have been caught off guard. _Son of a bitch, _she thought, infuriated. There was no way that she could make a move and not end up with a cut throat. Dean stepped forward, to make a move maybe or something, but the fingers in her hair yanked her head back further, exposing more of her neck to the deadly edge of the knife. She clenched her teeth in both anger and pain, grunting to express her discomfort.

"Don't." The man said warningly and Dean faltered, his expression darkening by the minute.

"Let her go." Her oldest brother snarled.

"I'm the one you want. Let my friends go."

Alex was stunned momentarily that the man who'd bested her was the one they'd been hunting for over two weeks now. Castiel Novak was standing right behind her, with a knife to her throat. _Fantastic._ If she managed to live through this, she knew she'd never live it down.

Dean could be seen visibly grinding his teeth. "Let. Her. Go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that until I can guarantee my friends won't be arrested." Castiel said calmly.

One of Castiel's friends murmured, "Cas, don't-"

"No way," Sam snapped. "They've been shooting at us too. We're taking every one of you shitheads in."

"You can't even fit all of us in your ship."

He had a good point. There was only one criminal lockdown chair in _The Impala_ and with the Harvelles and Bobby, they could only afford to take two more. Alex knew that her brothers were being faced with a hard decision. If they let the others go now, there was no doubt that the whole wrath of Helion's Security Force and military would rain down on the small group of bounty hunters. But they couldn't just let them get away with attempted murder either. Castiel sure was the golden prize, but his friends would definitely be worth a whole lot of extra in the eyes of the Federation. She knew Dean couldn't resist the extra catch.

"We'll make do somehow." Dean shrugged, shifting the weight of his machine gun to the other hand. "Now let her go before someone else gets hurt."

"Who sent you?" Castiel asked abruptly.

Sam's jaw twitched in what Alex knew was irritation. "The Federation."

Castiel laughed; a rich, deep sound that made her wonder about the face that went with it. "They must be getting real desperate if they're sending bounty hunters after me. Tell me, what am I worth nowadays?"

Alex listened to two of her very loud, very physical heartbeats before Sam answered, "One point five million."

Somewhere behind her, a man whistled lowly. She wished she could see Castiel's face now, wondering how it felt to know the Federation was willing to pay that much just for his arrest. Usually, Dean and Sam bartered to drive the price of a government-contracted job up higher, mostly because the government considered bounty hunters low and dirty, and always tried to jip them of a fair price. But when the Winchesters had been offered this price, the three of them barely hesitated to snatch up the job. That kind of money could seriously make retirement a real possibility. They could finally stop living on the go, scrounging for scrap jobs to get by, or dealing with the nasty, smelly criminals that always seemed to crawl in the shadows. They could finally settle down as a proper family, just the three of them, and have quality coffee in the morning, breath fresh air, and do normal human things.

"That's pretty generous." Castiel sounded amused, but his grip didn't lessen a bit; if anything, he only pressed the knife harder against her throat. "Don't you think you boys are just being greedy now?"

Dean scoffed. "This isn't about the money. This is about putting bastard criminals like you behind bars."

A woman said angrily, "Watch what you're saying about-"

"It's okay, Amelia." Castiel's voice was cold as stone; he dug his knee into the soft muscle just underneath her shoulder blade, forcing her forward against the blade of his knife and Alex hissed as silver broke skin. "You're right, I am a criminal. And you're a bounty hunter. That's why you're here isn't it? To arrest me? Let my friends walk away from this and I'll come with you quietly."

"Are you fucking serious?" Dean's eyebrows slanted down in carefully controlled rage as he watched bright beads of blood appear on his younger sister's neck. "You're just going to come with us, nice and compliant?"

Sam interrupted, "How do we know once your friends walk out that door that you won't slice her open and make a run for it?"

Alex winced at the image of her 'being sliced open'. She really hoped it wouldn't come down to that. But this was a weird play that Castiel was making and she wasn't sure just what he was trying to get at.

"I give you my word."

She couldn't help herself, she snorted in skeptical derision. When Dean's smartass comment didn't come immediately, the disbelief and confusion began to set in. From the look on his face, he was seriously considering this ridiculous proposal.

Forgetting for a moment exactly what situation she was in, Alex yelled, "Are you _kidding_ me? Dean! You can't trust him, he-"

"Hey." Castiel twisted his grip in her hair, making pain spike through her scalp as he kneed her spine once in reprimand; the harsh movement caused the blade to drag shallowly across the skin of her neck and Alex cried out, blood trickling down her collarbone.

"Okay! Okay!" Dean cut in desperately, lowering his machine gun. "Just don't hurt her."

She blinked the tears from her eyes, furious that she was the one being used to force Dean's hand. She had always known that she was one of her brother's most prominent weaknesses, but she'd prided herself on the fact that she was competent enough not be that pathetic. Until now.

Sammy seemed resigned to do the same and although she couldn't see him, she knew Castiel was giving each of the bounty hunters an appraised look; Bobby, Ellen, and Jo all lowered their weapons in resignation. This was all her fault.

"Go."

"But, Cas-"

"I said go."

The others didn't argue and she could hear the sounds of shuffling feet. The few men that were in her visual range disappeared to the left where she knew the main entrance was (the door was missing from where Dean had kicked it down). _So this is where I die. _Alex was waiting for the knife to plunge into her throat. _Criminals just don't tell the truth, ever. Dean should know that, the stupid jerk_.

"Let her go, Castiel." Dean said immediately afterward.

Surprisingly, the pressure on her neck lessened considerably and Alex was on her feet immediately, fingers swiping the minigun hidden in her other boot as she spun around to face the man that had been holding a knife to her throat for all of ten minutes. She was panting heavily, angry and furious and terrified and relieved all at the same time.

With her finger shaking on the trigger as she aimed at where she'd calculated his chest to be, Alex got her first look at the legendary Castiel Novak.

He was lean, moderately tall, with brown hair mussed from the fight , wearing a dirty, skin-tight shirt that left none of his rippling muscles to the imagination. Sweat glistened on his brow and shoulders, his right arm flexing beautifully from his grip on the knife that glinted red with Alex's blood. In any other given occasion, she might've taken the time to casually undress him with her eyes and appreciate his handsome build, but not this time. She was too spitting mad to even think about it.

He raised his eyebrows in an innocent manner, holding his hands next to his hand in a surrender like position. For some reason, this pissed her off even further.

"I keep my word."

Castiel smiled – a coy, triumphant little smirk – and Alex would've pulled the damn trigger right then and there if Sam hadn't put a gentle, restraining hand on her arm. He silently passed her the steel-reinforced, double-lock, Federation-issued cuffs made especially for high profile criminals. She understood his gesture as an opportunity to redeem herself and she appreciated it immensely. She holstered her gun a little reluctantly and glaring at the man before her resentfully, motioned for him to turn around. That stupid, smug look never left his face as he dropped his knife, letting it clatter noisily to the floor, and did as she directed.

"Put your hands behind your back."

He complied with her direction and she approached him warily. When she got close enough, she gripped his fingers and snapped the cuffs on with jerky, angry movements, tightening them until he flinched. It made her feel just a little better.

Dean came up behind her then, inspecting the bloody wound on her shoulder and then the thin red line on her neck with worried eyes. "Al?"

She jerked the cuffs, making Castiel stumble backwards a little. "I'm _fine_. Let's just get back to the ship."

As Bobby and Ellen lead the way, with Castiel and Alex between Dean and Sam, and Jo bringing up the rear, Alex couldn't help but feel that _this_ – having the most wanted criminal in Federation history basically walk into their cuffs– was just too good to be true.

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**So...what do you guys think? First meeting, yes?no? LEAVE ME ALL THE REVIEWS! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm dying of Calex feels. Someone call 911.**

**Notes: Credit to Miss River Winters for being the creator of Alex Winchester and being an awesome BETA**

**Warning: LEMON. If you aren't comfortable with smut, don't read on. (though you'll really miss out on some yummy Calex)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except parts of the plot.**

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3.

His eyes were the truest blue she'd ever seen. Really, she'd never seen anything quite like it in her twenty six years traveling the universe. Just a brief glance into the depths of those vivid irises made hot chills roll down her spine. It didn't make any sense that just a pair of eyes could have such an effect on her. She was insanely curious and slightly afraid all at once.

Alex rolled onto her side, twisting and shifting to settle the straps around her body as she tried once more to fall asleep. She'd been drifting in and out of a restless sleep for the last few hours and it was really starting to drain her. The humming lullaby of _The Impala_ usually sent her right into the depths of unconscious rest, but this time it wasn't doing the trick. Nothing seemed able to distract her from the very obvious and dangerous presence just a few feet away from her barrack-seat. Castiel was securely fastened into the criminal lockdown chair, steel braces clamped tightly over his wrists, stretching out his arms to either side of him and matching braces were on his ankles to anchor his feet to the floor. In a perverse way, it was a throne reserved for the criminals that bounty hunters couldn't control just by physical means. It had been awhile since anyone had sat in the back of the Winchesters' ship and Alex _would not _admit to herself that Castiel was the only one who could make sitting in a lockdown chair look so graceful.

Huffing out an exasperated breath, she unbuckled her straps, throwing them to the side as she sat up, brushing her messy hair from her weary face. The inside of the ship was pretty dark, illuminated only by the numerous, dim, blinking lights that assured her _The Impala_ was still functioning. Sam was sleeping next to her and Dean was sleeping across from her, so she figured the ship must be on autopilot. They had all been exhausted after finally catching the criminal that had led them on a wild goose chase across six planets. Alex got up just to check the pressure gauges and map on the monitor; Bobby's ship was coasting behind them a few miles back, as usual. The Harvelles had opted to stay behind as bait for the legion of airships that the Helion Security Force and Air Force would most likely send after they'd released Castiel's friends. Alex hoped Ellen and Jo were okay. After she checked a few more gauges and system functions, she concluded that everything looked alright. Alex turned back around, wondering if she'd be able to catch any sleep tonight... when her eyes inevitably landed on Castiel where he sat in lockdown. She didn't know what made her do it, but she approached him, trying to be as silent as possible. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was stupidity, maybe it was the half-lucid state she was in; whatever the case, her movements were precise and sure as she carefully placed both hands on either side of his shoulders. There was space enough between his legs for her to sidle her own leg in to get a closer look. She braced her other knee on the bit of space left on the chair next to his left hip. She studied him closely, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. This was the man that the Federation was desperate for, who had killed his entire family, and who had almost killed her. A few longer tendrils of her hair tickled across his collarbone as she reached behind him, searching for the mechanism she wanted. Being this close, she could smell him; a musky, sweaty scent that consisted of virility, menace, and honey. He didn't move at all, didn't seem to realize that she was practically perching over his lap, and she thought to herself that if anyone was looking she probably seemed like a really perverted creep. But she wasn't looking to jump his bones or anything; what she really wanted was to see those eyes again. She'd only been able to see them for brief moments when they'd first arrested him, and even then she'd been angry and in pain. Her heart pounded against her chest and she bit her lip, willing it to stop because he could probably hear it even in his sleep. Alex raised the strip bar—meant to render a criminal like him blind and defenseless—that concealed those incandescent eyes. She let out a half-disappointed, half-relieved breath when she saw that they were closed, eyelids flickering a little as if he were dreaming.

His eyes opened suddenly and glacial aquamarine gazed back at her.

She jerked back in surprise and shock; her movements were too fast and discombobulated, having been shocked into incoordination. She fell backwards, hands and fingers scrambling to find purchase before she could injure herself. Miraculously, she grabbed onto a ceiling pipe and halted the inevitable disaster that would've awakened her brothers and caused a whole other nightmare. She tried to extract her legs from his, but when she made to do so he trapped her right leg in between his thighs. For a moment, fear raced through her veins as she realized that she'd put herself in a bad position and he was going to overpower her in some way and escape and she would have to explain the whole mess to Dean. But then he didn't make any indication that he was going to do so and just stared at her with those beautiful goddamn eyes. Heat rushed quickly up the veins of her neck and flooded into her cheeks; she was now just beginning to feel the humiliation of having been caught staring at him in his sleep. She gripped the pipe above her head tightly and tried to reclaim her leg, but _damn_ his thighs were all muscle and wouldn't even give an inch.

"Sometimes, you moan in your sleep." He spoke casually, his voice deeper than usual and rough with sleep.

The casual but borderline inappropriate comment immediately quickened her pulse. She doesn't do any such thing. She knows this; she's a very quiet sleeper, Sam has attested to that. But the fact that he's apparently noticed something while he's awake and _watching her sleep_…

That superior, that voracious smile stretched across his face as he drawled slowly, "_Sexy._"

Embarrassed and slightly aroused, Alex used all her force to yank her leg back and this time he released her, that look – the one where he looked as if he'd won the goddamn lottery – stayed on his handsome face as she backed away from him, scrambling to get back to her barrack-seat. Her cheeks were permanently stained a bright red as she re-buckled her straps with more force than necessary, pointedly turning her back on him. _Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, _she buried her face into the leather of the old seat, frantically wishing that she had died before she could've ever been contracted for this job.

With tremendous effort on her part, Alex forced herself to ignore him and her racing heart in favor of catching at least a few hours of sleep. It wasn't until she was on the edge of that abyss that she remembered she'd forgotten to place the strip bar back in its place.

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_Her eyes fluttered open to the gentle pressure of lips on her the curve of her right ear._

_"Don't make a sound."_

_Castiel slid down her body slowly, his torso brushing over hers__**,**__ and she thinks this might just be one of the more pleasant dreams she's ever had. As he moved, his large hands trailed down her arms and then over her stomach__**, **__catching in the waistband of her pants to pull them down and off her legs. She only has a moment to realize that in this dream, she apparently chose not to wear underwear. He notices too and only smirks up at her, his tongue darting out between his lips briefly in a way that makes her want to take a fistful of his shirt and kiss him senseless. He lowered himself to his knees, spreading her legs with a simple pressure to the inside of her thighs by the backs of his hands. She relaxes into her reclined seat, enjoying the image of Castiel on his knees before her. She thought that maybe this was kind of an inappropriate dream to be having after she basically got caught in the act of ogling him in his sleep. God, she was weird._

_He pressed a light kiss into the inside of her left thigh and she looked at him sharply, just beginning to realize where this was leading._

_"What are you-ah!"_

_He sunk his teeth into her tender skin, communicating his rebuke at her outburst through a predatory stare. She fell silent again, complying with his demand, but realizing how fast she was breathing now. Alex couldn't bring herself to do anything she normally would've done in this situation a) shove him away b) punch him c) scream a few choice words or usually d) shoot him multiple times in the stomach with the gun she always kept handy. He suckled on that bit of skin for a few seconds—she tensed, biting her lower lip, watching him as he pulled away slightly to run a warm tongue across the aggravated flesh. Her body flushed with desire as he continued to trail his tongue lightly up her thigh. At this point she didn't care if dreaming about this was wrong or right or even acceptable, she just wanted his mouth on her immediately before she spontaneously combusted._

_When he finally covered her with his hot, wet mouth, her hips involuntarily shot up off the seat and she threw her head back in aching pleasure, mouth open wide__**.**__ She stifled a whimpering moan by biting down hard on her leather wristguard. His rough tongue dipped in and out of her in a tantalizingly slow rhythm, driving her to rock her hips desperately against his face. He gave an appreciative hum and she could almost feel the complacent smile taking over his features at her clear display of arousal. Castiel tried to control her erratic movements with a hand at the base of her spine, his warm fingers splayed across her ass. She hadn't grown up being a compliant little doll though, and her reactionary, shuddering, erotic spams couldn't be controlled, so he switched tactics._

_"Nnn… ngh!"_

_She couldn't quite cover the next moan as he abruptly slipped a finger inside her, teeth mildly scraping across her pelvic bone. He watched her with rapt attention, eyes mischievous, as he slipped another, and then another finger inside her, thrusting at that same agonizing pace. In response, she stared down at him, dissatisfied__**: **__she wanted him to go faster, to go harder, to rush her towards the end that she was both ready and not ready for. She didn't understand what he was doing to her; she'd never felt this out of control before. She gasped and writhed underneath his ministrations, forcing herself to hold back the sounds that automatically fell from her lips in unbelievable pleasure._

_The fingers of her other hand held on to the armrest for dear life as he drove her pleasure to new heights by sucking delicately on that sensitive little nub above his dexterous fingers. She felt like she might pass out at any moment. Out of sheer desperation, she released her hold on the armrest, reaching for him, any part of him, as she tried not to lose herself in the pleasure he provided. He moved his hand from her thigh, catching her outstretched fingers in his own, preventing her from touching him. He chuckled faintly into her ,enjoying her torment, the sound he made vibrating inside her with a treacherous gratification. She tried in vain to gain control over him, to tangle her fingers in his hair like she wanted to but he wasn't having any of that; he crushed her fingers in his, refusing to allow her any kind of dominance. Alex wanted to scream and tear at him until he gave her the control she wanted, but she was completely and utterly helpless in his embrace. She jerked her head from side to side, unable to handle the sensations that were overwhelming her body and her mind. He was driving her insane. He _was _insane. Sam's blurry, sleeping form in the seat next to her registered in her mind and her heart caught in her throat. When she looked back down at Castiel, who was deliberately playing at her with his tongue, there was a wicked gleam to his gaze – almost as if he dared her to make a loud enough sound to wake her brothers. It was a dream though and Alex thought she could probably get away with anything. It wasn't real after all, or she'd never let the handsome devil touch her this way. Probably__**.**_

_She was gasping and panting and moaning into leather, sweat plastering her long hair to the back of her neck. Castiel moved his fingers in a way that made her back arch and her toes curl, and his heavy, hot tongue….dear god, that tongue…Alex lost the ability to think as he liberated her hand to grip her thigh tightly, throwing it over his__defined shoulder in order to plunge his fingers more deeply inside her. When she gathered the wits and courage to look at him again, those alluring blue eyes were nearly black with dangerous passion. She almost cried from the rush of ecstasy that his look provoked in her. He began to slow his movements, curving his fingers deep inside her, sliding them out steadily, then shoving them in so suddenly again that curls of sensual bliss shivered up her spine. She growled in frustration at the lack of rough movements, and taking her own initiative she thrust her hips against his hand, effectively fucking herself on his fingers. Her free hand fisted around one of the straps dangling from the seat as she begged him with her body for the release she craved. She was too desperate to care as he drew his head away from between her legs, a lazy, sultry smile gracing his striking face. She was at his mercy and both of them knew it._

_Her arm fell away from her face and her head fell back again as she moved fiercely against him, biting her lip to keep from moaning like she wanted too. Half-whimpers and unintelligible sounds scraped up her throat, becoming nothing more than wet whispers that coated her lips. And dimly, somewhere far away, Alex thought this was the best dream she'd ever had… and even as she thought that,__** s**__he opened her mouth, desperately trying not to scream, as a particular angle sent her soaring towards the precipice. Castiel seemed to realize she was close and grasped her thigh in a bruising hold, pulling her towards him. Suddenly, he shoved his fingers violently inside her, thrusting hard and deep and quickly propelling her to a bone-deep, tumultuous pleasure. At the same time, he surged to his feet, her leg draped over his arm as he clamped a hand down on her mouth, hard. Just as well because she screamed as she came, her orgasm rendering her blind and deaf to the world. He curled his fingers deep inside her, almost forcing her hips off the seat, to prolong the waves and waves of mind-blowing ecstasy that inflamed her body. When she finally came down from her high, sprawled across the seat, her body trembling, drained, spent, and thoroughly satisfied, Castiel was standing before her, one hand bracing himself on an overhead compartment and the other in his mouth, his tongue running sinfully over glistening fingers. She closed her eyes again, unable to handle the aftershocks of pleasure that the image ignited inside her. She could hardly catch her breath, and with a dulling sense of alarm, she realized that she was fading into unconsciousness, or sleep, or something. She wanted to reach out to him, to pull him to her and do it all over again, and again, and again, but she couldn't bring herself to even open her eyes. She thought to herself weakly that if she could dream up something as graphic and sensual as this, she wouldn't mind sleeping the rest of her life._

_There was a soft pressure of masculine lips against her forehead and a self-satisfied whisper:_

_"Thanks for that, love."_

* * *

The first thing Alex did when Sam shook her awake, was twist around in her seat to look at the lockdown chair. Castiel sat perfectly still, in the same position that he'd been in last night. The strip bar was once again placed over his eyes and she assumed that one of her brothers had fixed it when they'd woken up. Neither mentioned any such thing, though. She turned away hurriedly, her body already reacting with a deadly heat at the memory of her iniquitous dream.

_Jesus Christ._

Alex clambered out of her seat to rush to the little, teeny bathroom that _The Impala _provided, slamming the door locked behind her. She tried to will the images away, but she couldn't. They floated around in her mind and made her hot and desperate. She couldn't believe it; was she really that perverted? She splashed cold water onto her face, letting it drip down her shirt and chill the warm sleep from her skin. _Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. _She splashed more water on her face, shivering. She pulled her pants down to sit on the toilet and take her morning leak. It was only when she'd finally calmed down and hung her head, trying to fight off the remaining vestiges of sleep, when her eyes caught on her legs.

_What the…?_

Alex ran a few fingers over the skin on the inside of her right thigh. It was what could only be describe as a fresh bite mark, complete with two perfect rows of teeth and the purple, red discoloring of a hickey. She stared at it in disbelief and confusion. Not only was there a clear bite mark, but there was a distinctive pattern of yellow and brown bruises suspiciously shaped like fingers disappearing around the back of her thigh.

_What the actual fuck?!_

She jumped up, yanking her pants back up over her hips, and stared at the metallic wall before her. Had she done it to herself while she was dreaming? Alex vainly tried to believe that her body could've contorted in a way where her mouth could reach her leg and she could've gripped herself that hard, simulating the entire sensual experience. _It's not real. _She jerked her pants back down, peering again at the marks on her right thigh. They were still there. This time, she slowly tugged her pants back on, buttoning them mechanically, fingers shaking. It didn't mean anything. Maybe her mind had been so thrown into over-drive by the dream and her body had physically manifested those marks. Yeah, that was it. Her body was just freaking out. There was no way that the dream had actually happened; he was in lockdown, for christ's sake! Alex laughed at herself weakly in the mirror, then proceeded to brush her teeth.

Sam and Dean were too busy interpreting the information that was coming across the analysis board to notice that their sister was still in the bathroom twenty minutes later. When she did exit, she was the perfect image of calm and collected.

Sam immediately said, "We have a situation."

"What's up?"

Alex made her way to the front of the ship, where her two older brothers were standing over the command console. Sam looked at Dean with what could only be described as his world-famous bitch face. Dean crossed his arms and mumbled something, averting his gaze from Sam's accusing one.

"What was that?" Alex looked in confusion between her brothers, down at the command console, then back up at the two men. "Seriously guys, what's going on?"

Dean mumbled only a little louder. "I forgot to fuel up."

Alex blinked. "You _what_?"

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean said defensively, "I was kind of stressed okay? We were all so focused on catching him that I didn't have time to stop and fill up the tank!"

Alex, channeling her twin brother, also rolled her eyes at the ever-present stupidity of her brother that just had to appear at the most inopportune times. "It's not that big of a deal though, right Sam? I mean, we're not making that long of a trip." Then she thought about it. "Where are we going anyway?"

Dean hadn't told either of them anything about where they were transporting Castiel to, and she had just assumed they'd be going to Headquarters. But when Dean remained silent at her question, she became suspicious. She exchanged looks with Sam, and knew he was thinking the same thing. It wasn't uncommon for their oldest brother to indulge in hot-headed behavior after a successful hunt and come up with some ridiculous, overzealous, and perilous plan to bring in a captured criminal. She couldn't even count the number of times that she'd almost died going through with one of Dean's harebrained schemes. But Dean was their captain and their brother, and Sam and Alex would follow him to the ends of the universe no matter what. That didn't mean they had to like it, though.

"Dean..." She said slowly. "We're going to Federation Headquarters aren't we? That's the plan, right?"

She knew, even as she asked those questions, that her brother was thinking of something completely different.

"You're a little slow on the uptake, aren't you, sweetheart?"

All three Winchester's were startled at the interruption by the only other person onboard the ship. Castiel was awake and he was grinning.

"_Excuse_ me?" Alex crossed her arms, trying to suppress the shiver of delight that his voice sparked inside her.

He laughed and she thought that the action looked particularly menacing while he still had the strip bar over his eyes. She got the feeling that he could see right through the thick metal bar, and it frightened her.

"Your ship isn't heading towards headquarters at all." Castiel explained, rolling his shoulders as he seemed to relax into the lockdown chair. "In fact, it's heading in the exact opposite direction. Because, you see, your brother didn't divulge all the details of their orders. The Federation doesn't want me anywhere near them. They want me as far away from their silly little castle as possible. And that means a triple-max prison. And since there are only three of them left in the system, they'll send me to the only one that I haven't had the pleasure of visiting yet. Wanna take a guess as to which one it'll be?"

Alex, who had been preoccupied by his mouth and remembering exactly what it could do in her dreams, didn't hear the question at all. Sam was the one who answered with a note of incredulity in his voice.

"Crematoria?! Are you serious, Dean? You can't possibly be thinking about bringing him there!"

Dean looked murderous. "How the hell did you know all that?"

Castiel's chesire grin only widened to reveal all of his gleaming, white teeth.

Sam clenched his fists in frustration, forcing Dean's attention away from Castiel. "You do realize we're talking about the same person who _escaped_ _from Butcher Bay_? What makes you think Crematoria can hold him?"

"Smart, that one." Castiel mused. "Don't forget, I also skipped out on Ursa Luna, Tangiers PC, Hubble Bay, and what was that really cute one? Oh yeah, PR Station Q9/T79. They really supported my artistic talent there, you know?"

Sam gave the man a highly disgusted side glance before rounding on his brother again. "Dean, the best thing to do is take him to Headquarters. Let them deal with him. We take the money and burn rubber."

Alex forced herself to tear her eyes away from that tantalizing mouth."Why didn't you tell us any of this, Dean?"

"Because I knew you two would act like this!" Dean sat down hard in the captain's chair. "The Federation specifically ordered him to Crematoria. We can't take him to Headquarters, Sammy. And Crematoria's too far away to make it on what we have. We need to make a pit stop and fuel up."

"Are you joking?" She hit the edge of the command console angrily and Dean gave her a dirty look. "We can't take him anywhere near civilization, you get that, right? He's an experienced killer, not to mention an escaped convict! We can't afford that risk, Dean."

"You flatter me, sweetheart." Castiel cut in again, his voice frigid and amused. "I'll promise not to bite…that much."

At the mention of biting, Alex flinched, that torrid, carnal sensation aching between her legs. She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face and make him shut up. He was playing mind games with all of them, though she felt that she was his specific target. Maybe he thought she was the weakest one, the most pliable. It would explain why he went for her neck before Jo's. He probably saw her as small and easily intimidated. She resented him for it. She'd definitely prove him wrong.

"You, shutup." Sam nearly snarled, his hand flicking the safety of his gun. "I'm not above putting a bullet through your head." When Castiel didn't say anything, he turned back to Dean. "Does Bobby know about this?"

The captain hung his head guiltily and Alex huffed, feeling a little betrayed that Dean hadn't trusted his own siblings enough to tell them the whole truth. Though he was right, if they'd known about this, she and Sam never would've consented to taking this job. It wasn't that they were afraid to enter the depths of the infamous Slam City; that wasn't it at all. The assholes that ran the joint were known for their despicable, corrupt business of bribery and murder, basically criminals themselves. Most of the time, the Winchesters avoided triple-max prisons, because not only were they filled with filthy, demonic beings, it was almost impossible to dock _The Impala_ without getting sustaining damages or injuries. The prisons were built to be inaccessible, so the Winchesters had decided long ago to dump their high-profile charges* in Headquarters, take the money, and disappear; the Federation generally understood and tolerated their system of bounty hunting. As long as they stayed out of the authorities' hair, the Federation left them alone to do their job effectively. Such was the relationship of the more respectable bounty hunters and multi-planetary government.

"Look, we don't have a choice." Dean said grimly. "I don't like it either, but we have to complete the job."

Alex looked up at her twin brother, whose expression was thunderous. She knew that they didn't have any other option. If they didn't complete the job, they wouldn't get the money; and even more importantly, they'd lose their golden reputation. The Winchesters didn't have much, but they had their honor and dignity as true upholders of justice. Castiel Novak had broken the law and it was their job to incarcerate him.

Sam was silent for a long time.

"It's your ship, I guess."

Dean wrinkled his nose at the prospect of his baby getting hurt. "Thanks, Sammy. Alex?"

"We're in and out, faster than the freaking wind. No bathroom breaks, no snack runs, no sightseeing. No nothing. We clear?" Alex tried to stress how the severity of their decision to go along with his risky pit stop.

Dean understood, eyes twinkling. "Yes, ma'am."

Alex sighed, "We're so gonna regret this, aren't we?"

Sam squeezed her shoulder. "Most probably."

* * *

*in the bounty-hunting profession, high-profile charges are rare. The ones that are caught should usually be sent to Federation Headquarters for proper incarceration, but most bounty hunters like to travel to triple-max facilities themselves and barter the price up for their own benefit. The Winchesters are some of the few that actually still follow protocol and send their high-profile criminals to the Federation.

* * *

**CAS IS SO SASSY, I CAN'T HANDLE IT OKAY?**

**Reviews? Please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for the really long wait! College applications have been kicking my butt! I'd also like to note that this AU will probably end up being longer than I originally planned, fufufufu :3 Anyway, without further ado:**

**Notes: Kudos to River Winters for BETA-ing. Calex foreverrrrrrrr! (Also, if you haven't read Chapter 44 of **_Song Remains the Same_**, you might want to remember to keep a mountain of tissues at your disposal).**

**R&R, please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing but the plot!**

* * *

4.

"Trinidad Moruga Scorpion or Naga Viper?" Dean looked at her excitedly. "Oooh, what about Carolina Reaper? That sounds intimidating."

Alex gave him a look that could kill.

"Yeesh. Maybe they should name one of these chili peppers after you, Al."

When she only proceeded to dial up the killing vibe in her stare, he sighed and moved away from the vendor.

"C'mon, Alex. Lighten up! It's not every day you get to stroll around on the wonderful, amazing, fantastic, Sol-Lucia!" He threw his arms up enthusiastically, wiggling his eyebrows as if he were in one of those ridiculous commercials that promoted planets for settlement.

The machine gun strapped to his chest swung gently from side to side with his erratic movements. Dean had decided to dock _The Impala _at the closest possible planet, which just happened to be Sol-Lucia. Known for its slums and accessibility to the black market, Sol-Lucia wasn't really the best place to bring their freshly-caught serial killer. Dean had ignored her and Sam's protests and somehow, after much wrangling and roundabout words, they had been tricked into 'taking a leisurely stroll' through the bustling, dangerous streets of Slum City. Really, she should have known Dean would've done something like this; he just couldn't resist the chance to pass by the new stuffs on the black market that would inevitably be displayed in the backwater alleys of this despicable metropolitan. She _hated _Slum City with a passion; it was full of the worst criminals, the worst people, and the most innocent of children that would grow up to be the monsters that prowled Slum City – if they didn't die first. It was a place that made her soul weep for the hopelessness and despair that clung to every single citizen on this godforsaken planet. And it was only made worse by the fact that they couldn't leave Castiel in the ship (though Bobby had stayed at the hangar to watch the ships), and so here he was, walking in front of her with heavy chains on his wrists that connected to those around his ankles and the collar around his neck, holding the metal bit in his mouth in place, and a blindfold around his head. She didn't like to take criminals out in public, didn't like how many eyes were drawn to their heavily-armed entourage, and just didn't like the situation they were in at all.

She flicked the safety on and off on the gun seated in her right hip holster threateningly. "I am not putting a fucking bomb in my mouth, Dean."

"Live a little, would ya?" Dean slung an arm over her shoulder as they continued to walk down the street and draw attention. "We'll get one on the way back, how about that?"

Alex very nearly growled, shrugging his arm off and adjusting her hold on Castiel's chains. "You promised."

Dean tapped his chin mockingly. "If I remember correctly, you only said snack runs, bathroom, and sightseeing. Chili peppers technically aren't a snack and weapons shopping doesn't fit into any of those categories."

She punched him, hard, in the arm. "Dean! I'm serious, okay? We should be on our way to Crematoria by now. This is really dangerous."

Sam, walking ahead of Castiel and brandishing his own gun, called back. "I completely agree."

Dean scowled, rubbing his offending forearm. "Killjoy twins."

Alex turned her attention back to her charge, content to just ignore her irrational, stupid ass brother for the rest of her life. She noticed with unease that he was quieter than usual, tilting his head every once in a while like he was listening really hard for something. Even with the metal bit in his mouth he hadn't stopped talking, earning multiple threats of a bullet in the gut or through the head from Sam, only falling silent when they had stepped foot on Sol Lucia. She knew from his scarcely detailed files that he had spent seven years growing up in Slum City and that made her very nervous. This should've been the last place they would take him. She had no doubt that he would try something here and she was almost trembling with taut muscles, tired from continuous tensing in preparation for that exact moment. The barely healed scar on her neck from where his blade had sliced into her skin tingled hotly.

"He's practically swimming in chains, Al." Dean jiggled the captain's goggles around his neck as if to remind her who was in charge. "There's four of us and one of him. Plus, we've all got at least four guns each. He'd be stupid to try anything."

"Dean-"

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Alex was just about to tell him to eat his own tongue when –

_BOOM_!

The ground in front of them exploded in a furious downpour of dirt, rubble, and flying body parts. Alex was thrown into the air, the chain ripped from her grasp as she landed on her back painfully. She felt the stitches in her bullet wound tear open and she groaned in pain. Her ears were ringing from the blast and there was dirt in her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. She coughed harshly, dragging an arm across her face, and she tried to roll over onto her stomach, but she was too disoriented to function properly. _Dean. Sam._

Slowly, the world filtered back as she blinked away the dirt and grime to peer through the smoke. There were sirens and screams and people running past her. The street before them lay in ruins, big chunks taken out of the walkway. Blood stained the ground in several places and the nearby shops were all shattered glass and broken bricks. There were unmoving bodies in the street. Alex struggled to clear her head of the smoke and ringing, desperate to find her brothers.

"Dean? Sam?" She could muster no more than a slight whisper.

From somewhere far away, Dean's voice floated towards her. "Alex! Sam!"

At the sound of his voice she renewed her efforts to get up, rolling over slowly to get up on her hands and knees.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam's voice was louder, closer. "Alex?!"

"Alex!" Dean was shouting for her. "Shit!"

At the note of urgency in his voice she jerked her head up sharply, throwing her hair out of her face. Dean was standing a few feet away from her, blood streaking his face and running down his arms from wounds she couldn't see. He was fighting a man in dark clothing, throwing punches and dodging kicks. At the sight of an enemy, Alex scrambled to her feet, stumbling when the fast movements made her head spin. Her shoulder was burning and aching like crazy, but the adrenaline was already kicking in as she spotted Sam, also sporting bloodied wounds, holding his own against two other darkly clothed men.

She started to rush towards Sam, two guns already out of their holsters, when Dean yelled, "Castiel! Alex, get him!"

Suddenly reminded of their charge, Alex whipped her head around, canvasing the area for any signs of a man in chains. Her heart nearly dropped to her stomach when she saw a pile of chains laying in the street a few feet in the opposite direction. She didn't know what to do. Their criminal was gone and her brothers were fighting for their lives, but they couldn't afford to lose the bastard. She turned back towards her brothers, torn. There were more and more darkly clothed people dropping out of the sky with guns and knives and Alex raised her guns, firing rapidly to take out as many of them as possible.

"Alex! No!" Dean barely missed a punch before shooting another man in the face, and pointing behind her. "He went that way! Go!"

Alex hesitated, ducking a punch and grabbing the man that had rushed her by the back of his shirt, jerking her knee up with a crunch to his face. She let him drop to the ground, but there were three more to take his place. Alex grimly set her shoulders, exchanging her guns for her shivs as all three men rushed towards her. Shots rang out and two dropped. She had no time to wonder as the last man swung a blade at her collarbone and she bent back, feeling the blade slice through the air above her skin. In the next moment, she had dropped to one knee, hand jabbing out to slice open his stomach with the shivs pinched in between her fingers.

Sam had barely lowered his gun from shooting those two men in the back when he was engaged by more people. Alex was panting harshly, one hand clutching her bleeding shoulder.

"We can't lose him!" Sam urged her, throwing a punch across a face and shooting another stomach. "Go, Alex! _Go!_"

She swallowed the horrible feeling of abandoning her brothers and with one last look, turned and ran in the direction that Castiel had supposedly gone. Bullets followed in her wake, but she refused to look back, trusting either one of her brothers to take down the men chasing after her. As she got further and further away, throwing herself to the left or right on impulse, her gasping breaths sounded loud in her ears. She was getting more and more desperate, frantically searching for any sign of their escaped convict. _Where the hell is that bastard? _Alex was furious at herself for losing him and at him for running away. First, he allowed himself to be caught and then he took the first opportunity to run away? It didn't make any sense at all. She threw herself to the right, running along another back alley that was completely deserted. Her grip on her gun was slippery as her fingers were covered with the blood oozing from her ripped stitches. She stopped for a moment to rip a piece of fabric from her shirt, wiping the blood from her hand and gun, and tied it roughly around her bleeding arm with many of her favorite expletives. That should stop the bleeding enough for her not to die from blood loss. It hurt, more than she cared to admit, but she had to keep moving. Just as she had finished tying the knot, pulling it tight with her teeth, she glimpsed a fleeting figure out of the corner of her eye.

"Stop!" She immediately took off after the running figure, almost slipping at the sharp turns on which the chase led.

The man looked so much like Castiel, that same style of hair that spiked up just a tad in the front, that she knew it was him. She could see up ahead that the alley ended in a little plaza that looked more like an abandoned backyard, weeds choking the life out of the granite stones that composed the filthy ground._Gotcha, asshole._

"Castiel Novak! Stop right now!" She yelled as they approached the dead end. "Stop! I won't hesitate to shoot!"

Castiel stopped in the middle of the teeny plaza and she stopped just in the shadows of where the alley ended and the plaza started, taking aim very carefully – one gun trained on his head and one gun trained on his back. She knew well enough now not to underestimate him.

"There's nowhere left for you to run," She told him.

"Took you long enough."

He raised his hands up, turning around slowly so as not to unsettle her. His shirt – ripped in several places probably from the blast – was covered in blood and grime, pulled tightly over his chest as he breathed harshly from the run. She was relieved and at the same time, enraged at his casual reply.

"How the hell d'you get out of your chains?"

He shrugged, corners of his lips dragging down in an I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about expression. "Chains aren't really my dig. Really weigh me down, you know?"

Alex resisted the urge to pull the trigger. His unconcerned attitude was really starting to piss her off. She waved a gun at him threateningly. "So this was your plan all along? Drop a bomb on us when we weren't expecting it and make a run for it?"

He shrugged again. "Worked, didn't it?"

She almost did pull the trigger. It didn't make sense for him to place a bomb so close to where he would also be. "You didn't make it further than a couple of blocks, dickhead. What made you think we wouldn't catch your ass before you got off planet?"

Castiel's smile stayed in place but his eyes were suddenly piercing in the moonlight. "What makes you so sure I was running from you guys?"

Alex was just starting to ask him what the hell he meant when she was interrupted by the sounds of gunshots and heavy voices floating down the alleyway. She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder, afraid there were more hit-men coming toward her.

"Aaaaaaand, that's my cue."

She whipped her head around just to catch his boots disappearing over one of the low rooftops. She aimed and fired, but she was too late and the bullets ricocheted off metal.

"God dammit!" Alex holstered her guns, sprinting towards the small fire escape that she had just noticed. "Castiel!"

She clambered onto the rooftop, racing after his fleeing back as he leaped over a gap between two houses. They were definitely in the worse parts of the slums now, where the one story houses with debilitating roofs were gathered. She had to leap and roll and make jagged cuts to avoid the holes and random garbage that were in her way.

"Castiel! Stop!" Alex cried, leaping over a particularly large gap, rolling to soften her fall, and ended up on her knees where she took aim again and fired at his rapidly moving figure.

He ignored her commands and the bullets missed him completely as he disappeared between one of the gaps coming up ahead. Alex felt a bullet whiz past her right ear, singing a couple strands of her hair, and then the voices of men pounding along the rooftops and yelling after her.

"Shit!" Alex ducked, running with her eyes trained on the edge where she'd last seen Castiel. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

Not only did she have a very dangerous target some hundred feet ahead of her, but she also had unknown hostiles chasing her from behind. This was starting to become one of the worst days of her life. Alex reached the edge and without even hesitating, jumped – landing in an experienced crouch at the bottom of an alleyway between two houses. Castiel was nowhere in sight.

"Son of a bitch!" Alex complained.

Hearing the voices of the men chasing her coming ever closer, she trusted her instincts and took off to the left, weaving in between houses and gates and trash, trying not to breathe too hard for the smell here was just awful. There was water splashing underneath her heavy boots and more water dripping from somewhere above. She knew it hadn't rained recently so she tried not to think about exactly where the water was coming from.

Her instincts seem to have decided to fail her in the worst way possible, because when Alex was halfway down an extremely long, extremely narrow, and extremely dark alley, she realized that it was a dead end.

"Castiel?" She whispered stupidly, hoping that he'd just come out with his hands up – he was unarmed after all…unless he'd happened upon a weapon while he was running away.

Alex gripped the hand of her gun too tightly in her hand; her palms were sweaty and the blade of her knife was too slippery in her hand. She tried to calm herself down but it was too quiet here and she couldn't even stretch her arms out to either side of her unless she wanted to break them. She had just decided not to venture down to the darkest end of the alley and turned around, when she saw with a creeping dread, four men slowly advancing down the alley where they had just spotted her. She was trapped now and there really was no space to fight here. Alex tried to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat as the men in black clothing filed in one by one, guns and knives glinting in their hands.

"Hey there, baby Winchester." The man closest to her said tauntingly. "We just wanna have a little talk."

Alex immediately retorted. "Fuck off."

Her adrenaline spike and the man raised his guns as he charged her. She holstered her gun, throwing her weight forward into a crouch as the bullets whipped over her back and she took the tackle with arms around his knees, using all of her strength to throw him over her shoulder. The knife in her hand cut deep into skin as she slashed across the back of his legs. He landed somewhere behind her and she recovered her position as the next man came at her with his own gun. She threw herself to the side to avoid his bullets, then threw an elbow out to catch him by on the side of the head. He grunted, stumbling, and she fully extended her arm forward, just as one of his flailing hands gripped her shirt and pulled her in for a knee jab, and she dug her thumb into the socket of his eye, fighting to put some distance between them. He cried out in pain, loosening his grip on her shirt and she pulled her arm back to punch him hard in the face, pain spreading through her knuckles at the impact. She stumbled a little as her other arm hit the wall – _there's no space here! _– and the man recovered quickly, crashing the butt of his gun into the side of her face. She cursed inwardly as her the force of his strike caused her head to smash into the other wall. With stars swimming in her eyes, the entire left side of her face throbbing, she tripped her way backwards to gain a few seconds of recovery. He followed, still shooting, and it was miraculous that she didn't get hit. He got up into her personal space again, but this time, Alex was ready. She used one arm to knock his handgun away from her face and the other with a shiv to stab into his shoulder. She used the momentum to throw him up against the wall as his strong fingers latched onto her shoulders and hair. Alex hissed, nimble fingers catching his own gun as it was knocked from his hand and rammed it into his chest. His strong fingers drew blood over her hands as she pulled the trigger, the gunshot impossible loud in the narrow alley. It was too dark to see as she let the gun drop from her fingers, following its owner as he slumped to the ground. She was immediately tackled sideways from the third man behind him and Alex screamed in frustration, her wounded shoulder smashing into concrete as both her and her attacker fell to the ground in a struggling heap of limbs. He ended up with a knee to her belly, punching her again on the same side of the face as his friend had. _Fuck! _Alex spit blood out of her mouth, as she scrambled to find a solid purchase on the ground. She managed to cross her arms over her face to protect herself from the rain of heavy fists that were coming from the man on top of her. Finally, her boots stopped slipping on wet water and she planted her feet firmly into the ground, lifting her hips to throw him off balance as he tumbled over her head. She craned her arms behind her head, flipping into a backwards handstand to use the shivs in her boots, slicing across his face as she kicked out behind her, landing a little unsteadily on her feet again. She was lucky as the movement had placed her farther from the fourth and last attacker and in the blink of an eye she had two guns in her hands, firing rapidly in a fit of rage and pain. She didn't stop pulling the triggers until the magazines were empty; fear and adrenaline had put her body on autopilot. Alex dropped the guns – she was breathing too fast, gulping in the dirty, cold air – finally relieved that all her attackers were down and groaning on the ground. All of it had happened in a less than a span of thirty seconds. She turned as movement rustled behind her, and she pulled her last minigun from her boot as the first attacker struggled to sit up. She aimed between his eyes and he froze. She remembered what Castiel had said about running away.

"Who are you?" She demanded, shoulders heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

When he didn't immediately respond, she smashed her boot into his crotch angrily. He yelled in protest, almost falling backwards again.

"I asked you a fucking question! _Who are you_ – mercs, hunters, pirates, _which one is it_, asshole?"

He spat angrily in defiance, grinning with bloody teeth. "None of the above, you little bitch! We're on a whole different level that you don't even understand!"

"What are you talking about?" Alex narrowed her eyes.

He grinned maniacally and she really should've seen it coming – really. In one moment, she was in control with her gun in his face and then the next - a boiling, white-hot pain exploded in her left thigh and she went down hard.

The man limped towards her with the smoking gun that he'd somehow snuck out from behind him somewhere (maybe the one she'd dropped after shooting his friend? _Daaam_mit!) and pressed a rugged heel to the bleeding wound in her shoulder. She screeched, gasping in pain from her shoulder and leg alike.

"Me?" He sneered down at her as she stared up into the barrel of his gun. "I work for the devil."

Alex lifted her chin stubbornly, staring into his murky brown eyes as he squeezed the trigger.

The next few nano-seconds echoed with her rushing heartbeats. Alex wished she'd had a chance to say a proper goodbye to her brothers and tell Dean that she was the one who'd stolen his very first, most favorite pair of captain's goggles and Sam had covered for her and she wished Dean would've let her fly the Impala at least once because _of course_ she wanted to become captain of her own ship someday. She only regretted that she wouldn't be able to help her brothers recapture Castiel and they'd probably be devastated to find her body in some filthy backwater alley.

Damn it all, she still had so much to do.

When the shot rang out, she was still staring down the gun barrel. _Wow, I didn't even feel anything. Death isn't so bad. Do I get to haunt now? I'm gonna haunt this bitch to hell and back, hah!_

To her confusion though, her killer crumpled to the ground and Castiel emerged from the shadows with one of her own guns in his hand. Alex was train wrecked by the realization that she wasn't dead but she might be soon from the raging pain blossoming from her leg. Feeling faint and weak from the blood pouring down her thigh, she could do nothing but let out little gasping cries as Castiel came to stand over her. The gravel beneath her prodded her back in uncomfortable places and some cold wetness was seeping into her clothes. She hated that he had to see her like this, shot and bleeding out on the ground like a helpless victim. She would've rather taken a straight bullet to the head.

He crouched next to her, her gun still grasped idly in his fingers, and just stared into her eyes. She was thinking it wouldn't be bad at all to die with that brilliant color of azure blue as her last memory when alas, that rogue smirk floated across his pretty lips and ruined it all. She almost had the energy to groan in irritation; instead, her eyes fluttered as she approached the blessed edge of unconsciousness…

She blinked in shock when he roughly slid his arms under her legs and back, hoisting her up from the ground and making the pain even worse. She was too busy trying to breathe to protest, and she weakly clutched at his jacket as he jostled her into his arms.

"And I was just beginning to enjoy our little tryst too." Castiel's voice rumbled low in his chest. "Don't die on me now, sweetheart."

_What is he…?_ Alex clenched her eyes shut, renewed waves of pain cutting off the thought as he began running. She didn't understand what was happening. She didn't trust him. Where was he taking her? And _why_? Her mind was a jumble of_painpainpainpainwhypainsmellsnicewhatpainpainpainf uckpain…_

It felt like an eternity of his hot breaths washing over her and her trying to escape the terrible pain by burying her face tightly in his chest. She justified not scrambling out of his arms or beating him up for daring to touch her because she didn't have any weapons left (the immediately accessible ones anyway)…and she was tired, so very, _very_ tired.

The sound of banging and loud scraping noises reached her ears, but she didn't have the energy to look. _Open your eyes. Don't trust him. _He was warm and he held her securely and she wanted to die.

He dumped her unceremoniously onto a flat, cold, hard surface and Alex almost screamed as the impact fed the fire of combined agony in her leg and shoulder. There was a harsh, blinding light above her and she squinted, trying to sort through her confused pain. Where was this?

"Cas…Cas…" She tried to say his name, but she couldn't concentrate – everything was distorted and too bright and too loud and too much. _Don't trust him. Escape. Escape now._

He shushed her from somewhere to her left and then his large hands were on her left thigh. She heard the _snick_ of a blade and alarm shot through her veins, giving her just enough energy to struggle her leg from his grip. _Run!_ She whined her protest, trying to roll away from him, get to some kind of cover before he could use the weapon, but he pressed his elbow into her hip, keeping her pinned to the table. Having spent the simple flare of adrenaline, Alex swallowed her fear and accepted that he was gonna cut her open and leave her to a longer, more horrible death. She heard him slice through fabric, his hands grabbing roughly at her thigh and lifting and turning and she was again confused. When cold air slapped onto the hot skin of the bullet wound, she groaned and fought to keep conscious. He'd cut off her pant leg….was he trying to help her? _No, don't trust him!_ She was in a dangerous situation, bleeding and dying, with only a treacherous criminal for company that was apparently, cutting her pants off. Alex did the only thing she could think of and went on the defensive. He left her alone for a few seconds and she sucked in a couple of deep breaths, trying to gather the courage and adrenaline to make one last strike. When his hands covered her wound again, probably slick with her blood, she saw the glint of a metal object.

With tremendous effort that came out of the desperation to stay alive, Alex reached into her shirt and pulled the emergency pistol she kept in a hidden side compartment of her bra. She propped herself on one elbow, her arm shaking as she touched the barrel of the pistol to his head and cocked the gun. He froze, hands stopped in the air inches from the bloody mess of her thigh and the sharp tweezers slowly slid from his fingers.

"Get…away from…me."

She gritted out from behind clenched teeth, watching him watch her from the corner of his eye as he straightened up slowly.

"Sweetheart…"

Alex prodded his head with her pistol, unyielding as she gasped out another command. "_Move_."

He took a small step back, keeping his hands where she could see them. He looked amused, as if surprised that she was holding a gun to his head in her debilitated state. _Yeah, that's right, asshole. I'm not dead yet._

He reached for the tweezers that had clattered to the table next to her leg. "The bullet shattered in your leg. I'm just getting the pieces out so it can heal properly." He spoke as if speaking to an angry kitten.

Alex forced herself into a sitting position, unable to hold back a growl of pain.

"Ah, you really shouldn't-"

"Shut! Up!" Alex ground out with angry gasps as she tried to judge the distance from the table she was sitting on to the mangled and graffiti-ed door she'd just spotted.

He followed her line of sight; then snorted. "Sweetheart, you won't make it two feet without passing out. Be reasonable."

"Don't…" Alex struggled to breathe as she shifted her legs off the table. "…tell me…what to do."

Here were her choices: a) she could try to escape and find Dean and Sam before she bled out but risk letting Castiel get away or b) stay with Castiel and possibly get her throat slit. She didn't know which one sounded worse. If she was being rational, she really couldn't make it to the door. However, Alex wasn't being rational and decided to chance it anyway. She almost cried at the thought of walking.

Cas saw her struggle to get off the table and tried to warn her again. "Sweetheart…"

Alex pulled the trigger automatically out of spontaneous irritation caused by intense pain and frustration.

She snarled, "Don't call me that!"

Her shot went wild because her arm was weak, and the bullet ricocheted of a wall. Castiel didn't even flinch but his joking demeanor was completely gone. His expression was formidable and Alex wondered if she had actually managed to piss him off. _Serves him right, _she thought bitterly.

"Now you're just being difficult." He snapped.

Alex was prevented from responding with another irrational act of violence as the kick of the round sent her off balance and toppling forward off the table. Castiel caught her immediately around the waist so that she crashed into his very solid chest. The movements caused everything to explode in pain and Alex almost passed out, moaning very weakly.

"Okay, now." Castiel grunted and lifted her back onto the cold table. "Let's take it easy."

She wanted to curl up and die, anything to escape the pain. But out of self-preservation and the fact she was still in the presence of the threat kept her from surrendering to unconsciousness. He let her rest momentarily, body shivering from blood loss and pain spasms. Then Castiel tied rough cloth around her upper thigh, just above the wound and knotted it too tight. She grunted in a high-pitched whine, feeling like her leg was being severed in half. He shoved cloth into her mouth and she became even colder with the thought of what was going to happen next.

"Bite down."

Alex complied and with what little strength she had left, ground her teeth into the soft roll of cloth, whimpering softly. She was frightened and too weak to hide it. The bastard must have shot her at a very close range, otherwise it would never have hurt this bad. Alex let her head fall back, too apprehensive to even look. She curled her fingers around the edge of the hard surface she was laying on, reaching out with the other hand almost blindly for Sam or Dean to take, almost delirious. One of them always held her hand during emergency medical. It was an unspoken family rule. Castiel caught her searching hand in his and Alex crushed his fingers in hers as he braced both their hands on her hip. She tried not to show how afraid she was of the pain that was to come, but he seemed to understand and allowed her to crush the life out of his fingers. He was talking but she couldn't understand through the cold of fear and pain. Her cry was muffled by the cloth in her mouth as he dug the thick tweezers into her wound. It hurt, god it hurt so bad. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the screams choked in her throat as the cold metal tore into bloody flesh. All her muscles contracted at once into hypertension as Castiel continued to search for bullet fragments with those blasted tweezers. She let tears of relief slip down her cheeks as he moved the tweezers away and the tinkling of metal against metal told her he'd found a piece. He waited while she gathered her wits and courage again, still talking.

"…and she was trying so hard not to cry and I was really proud that she stayed awake for the whole thing. Rachel was just like that, always trying to be the strongest when we all knew she wouldn't be anything like Naomi or Atropos – my older sisters. I've got a lot, you probably know that."

He went back to searching for fragments and Alex was consumed by ever heightening agony again as he continued to just talk about god knows what. She was glad for it though, and desperately clung to his words to distract herself from hell.

"Anyway, she didn't make a sound even after I finished the stitches. Gail was holding her hand though and she told me later that she'd though her hand had broken from her grip." Castiel laughed gently, and she was surprised to hear a note of warmth in his voice. "Zach made fun of Rachel for letting her guard down in the first place, the annoying prick – "

She took deep, gulping breaths around the cloth as he withdrew the tweezers again with another bullet fragment. She was trembling, trying to keep her vision focused on the panel of dirty roof directly above her. Her vision was swimming with tears, and she quickly used her free hand to wipe them away before returning to her death grip on the table. Castiel paid her no mind, his words never faltering as her back arched in response to his delving into the wound again.

"But Balt and I set him straight the next day during training. Mikey yelled at us for an awful long time, but we didn't care. Gabe even told us that we'd been good big brothers and that was a good thing. We walked around all happy with bruises and everything. We were so stupid back then."

Her back hit the table again as he pulled out another fragment and she shuddered with immense relief, hoping that it was the last one. It wasn't. He continued to speak and she continued to die.

"Then this other time, we snuck Anna with us on a hunt and she got in the way on accident and ended up with knife in her leg. It was a mess and we were so scared that we were going to get in trouble, but the little rascal was just laughing. It was the craziest thing, we thought she had gone insane or something. Gabe and Lucy covered for us though and we fixed her up real quick. To be honest, we almost got our younger sisters killed millions of times, but not on purpose! We just wanted them to have fun and we didn't think it was fair that just because they were younger that they couldn't do the fun stuff, yeah? And don't even get me started on Sammy…"

She reacted on an emotional level to the name, her heart aching for own twin brother. Alex groaned into the wet cloth as he twisted the tweezers in a particularly cruel way. She dug her nails into the back of his hand, trying to break his fingers so that he would feel the same pain she did. She wasn't successful and he continued to babble on in that annoying, stupidly soothing voice of his.

"He was the youngest – Adam didn't count because adopted, you know – that kid had some real self-esteem issues. Everyone doted on him, but he nearly killed himself at least twice a day trying to prove himself or whatever. He was the sweetest, most annoying little kid ever; I swear to god, I wanted to strangle him most days. He was just so happy and innocent all the time and it wasn't really fair you know, because Father always left him alone and the rest of us were suffering through blasted training and lessons and shit. But at the same time, we all wanted to protect him from that life, you know? He was just too gentle, even more so than Rachel."

He removed the tweezers, dropping another bullet fragment somewhere metallic so she could hear the _clink_.

His voice changed, devoid of emotion yet full of humor. "Last one, I think."

Alex was wrenched from the fantasy of family and love that his warm, reminiscing voice had created. She was breathing hard, closing her eyes in all-consuming relief as she allowed all her muscles to relax and the tears to spill from her eyes. _Thank god… _She shuddered and took a couple of long moments to remember that she was still alive and pain was just pain, letting the cloth fall out of her mouth and swallowing the excess saliva that filled her cold mouth.

When she felt Castiel moving from her hold on his hand, she opened her eyes again. He was gazing down at her with almost a rueful look, lifting her arm by his hold on her hand. She was sluggish with the relief from pain and didn't register the needle in his hand at first.

When she did, the fear she felt was muffled by her weariness. "…Are you going to kill me now?"

He chuckled, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. "It's just morphine, sweetheart."

"Overdose." She grumbled, almost too sleepy with reprieve to care. On the deepest of human emotional levels, Alex hoped that he wouldn't kill her. He wouldn't patch her up all nicely just to end it, would he? She didn't know what to think anymore. She just wanted to sleep it all away.

"Maybe another day." He murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

She stared hard into his eyes, trying to discern the truth in the swirling depths of aquamarine; she mumbled, "I'll… I'll haunt the shit out of you…"

He lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth, pressing sultry lips to the chilled skin of her palm. "Sounds dirty. I can't wait."

Alex closed her eyes as he pressed the needle into the skin at the crook of her elbow, fighting down the smile that rose to her own lips. She drifted quite contently into the pain-relieving darkness.

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**Yay! I've got the entire plot written up (thanks to River Winters) so now it'll just be a matter of how long it'll take me to write everything...**


	5. Chapter 5

**I feel like years have passed. College applications are making me age like hell. It's scary. And it's life-threatening. Someone help.**

**Kudos: To River Winters for editing!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own anything.**

**Note: I'm sorry updates are coming so slow, after mid-November, they should start coming a little faster.**

**As usual, R&R!**

* * *

5.

When Alex awoke, it was dark. But that didn't seem right, because she could make out daylight in between the cracks of the wrecked roof above her. It came back to her in an instant where she was and what had happened. She was careful to keep her breathing even and her body still, assessing the situation. She was no longer incapacitated by worlds of agony, though her leg and shoulder still throbbed like mad. The soreness would present a problem, but she could work around that.

Where was Castiel?

Taking the chance to familiarize herself with her surroundings (she hadn't really paid attention to anything last night except the stupid bullet in her leg), Alex turned her head very slowly to the left. Castiel was standing with his back slightly to her, doing something over a metal cart. She could see even from here that he had blood all over his front, his arms, and his hands – her blood. Alex was careful not to make any noise as she sat up slowly, reaching into her boot for her double-bladed shivs. She was a little surprised and proud of herself that she still had a few weapons left somewhere on her body. With a weapon in each hand, she silently slid her legs over the table, wincing when the movement pulled at her wound. Both her leg and shoulder had been bandaged and she grudgingly accepted that Castiel had done a pretty good job of fixing her up while she was out. She didn't like the idea that he'd been around, touching her and shit while she was unconscious. Now was the perfect chance to subdue him, cuff him, and find Sam and Dean. Her duty belt was still heavy on her hips so she knew that she hadn't lost her cuff in the fray or the chase.

Alex placed her feet on the ground, swallowing several curses as her leg screamed in protest. Damn, there was no way she was going to walk on it for any length of time. Her guns were all gone, the last one she'd dropped after trying to shoot Castiel last time – if only she could find that one. He was only a few steps away; she could suffer through it.

She stood up, putting all her weight on both feet and lurched forward a little. _Motherfucking fuck fuckers! _Alex stopped, favoring her right leg for a moment. She tightened her grip on her shivs before taking the next inevitable step on her left foot. She bit her lip, quickly taking a half step back onto her right foot before she could scream. Alex forced herself to take the few steps so that she was standing right behind him, and she lifted her shivs.

"You're stretching your stitches."

Castiel's voice startled her as turned his head slightly, and she knew she'd lost her element of surprise. _Damn him_. She pressed the sharp point of one shiv to the skin above his left hip, ready to penetrate his kidney in the space of a breath; and the other just at the base of his neck and left shoulder, where she rested her hand, half curled around the deadly weapon. She noticed that he had really defined shoulders, his skin warm and toned against her palm. His muscles were taut under her touch.

Alex ignored his comment and tightened her hold on his shoulder, shifting her weight to her right. "Put your hands behind your back, _slowly_."

He raised his hands from where they'd been holding something in front of him. "Is this how you treat all your handsome nurses?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shutup and put your hands behind your back."

He didn't move. "I'd really prefer it if we didn't do things this way."

"I'm the one with the knives." Alex hissed, jerking on his shoulder to press the blade more firmly into his skin. "Put your fucking hands behind your back."

Castiel moved immediately, grasping her hand on his shoulder and twisting around. She was surprised by his spontaneous movement, unable to resist as he gripped her other shoulder and twisted her around so that her back was against his chest and his other arm crushed her windpipe, knocking her chin up as she struggled to breathe.

"Drop the knives, sweetheart." He breathed into her ear as she fought against his iron-strong hold on both her wrists.

Alex choked and coughed, "Don't…c-call me that!"

She was desperate for breath, but unwilling to release her weapons. He sighed, his chest pressing into her back more fully as his grip on her wrists tightened painfully. She tried once more to wrench her limbs out of his grasp, but her efforts were futile – he was just too strong. She knew she should've approached with a gun. Her wrists were small in his hands and his fingers overlapped each other as they squeezed mercilessly against delicate bones. She gave a choked gasp and dropped the knives angrily. The pressure on her neck and wrists lessened considerably at the same time and she slumped in his embrace, gulping for air.

"Let me go, dammit!" Alex fought to keep standing straight as the pressure on her left leg was too much.

"Are you going to be nice?"

"What the hell is your problem? Let me go!"

"I didn't realize I had one."

Alex smashed the heel of her left foot into his shin furiously, simultaneously crying out as the impact sent more pain through her already wounded leg. Castiel cursed, but his grip didn't loosen. In the next moment, he had her right wrist bent inwards to force compliance, forcing her backwards into him as he let go of her left arm, pushing her forward a little and used brute strength to drive her right arm backwards over her shoulder. This forced her off balance and she went crashing down, her spine cracking hard against the unforgiving floor. He followed her motion, digging his knee into the soft flesh just above her pelvic bone and placing most of his weight on her as he bent her wrist inwards further. Her breath escaped her in a big _whoosh_ at the weight on her lower stomach and she yelped in protest at his violent offensive. He was half crouching to her right, half-_kneeling_ on her stomach, bending her right arm and wrist so far behind her that tears sprung to her eyes. She thought maybe a few of her stitches may have ripped too.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore than necessary, but I don't really like being told what to do." His eyes were hard, lips drawn into a cruel smirk. "Unless we're naked."

"Get off me." She grunted breathlessly, spitting hair out of her mouth. "Asshole."

She was so angry that he'd managed to get the better of her and she was so sick of his rude, inappropriate responses. She was angry that she was wounded in the deepest depths of Slum City with a smart-ass douchebag. She was angry that he had saved her in the alley last night and she didn't know why. She was angry that Dean and Sam weren't here to bash his head in. She was angry that she was alone with a murderer. And she was angry that he was bending her wrist because _it fucking hurt_. This son of a bitch was pissing her off more than she'd ever thought was possible and right now, she was literally seeing red.

"My, my, such language-"

"Just get the _fuck_ off me!" Alex screamed furiously, raking the nails of her free arm against the arm that held her right wrist captive.

He seemed unfazed by her angry outburst, even as she drew blood along his arm. "Not until you calm down."

She glared at him with as much hate as she could muster and he gave her a quirky smile, easing up some of the weight on her stomach so she could breathe easier. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of doing what she wanted, but she didn't like being held down on the ground like this against her will.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you." She seethed, even angrier that her words weren't as menacing since she was on the ground and at his mercy.

"I thought I was supposed to do the killing." He quirked an eyebrow, looking down at her with a mocking expression.

She groaned in frustration and hit her head on the concrete, wishing that at this moment she'd died yesterday. Anything was better than being stuck, wounded and almost-weaponless, in the slums with this insufferable asshole. _Casshole. Yeah that sounds about right._ She breathed in a couple of angry breaths through her nose, grinding her teeth. He watched her with a smug expression splattered all over his face, like he was amused that she was so angry. _Fucking casshole._

When she didn't speak again, he asked, "Are you done?"

She didn't trust herself to speak without magically conjuring a gun out of her mouth and shooting him a hundred times in the face. Plus, she'd spotted her pistol lying on the ground near the table, so she nodded. He released her wrist _finally, _standing up,and she hugged the throbbing appendage to her chest, rubbing circulation back into her veins. She stayed on the floor, breathing in full breaths to expand her stomach to clear away the feel of a knee depressing into her body. He crossed his arms across his chest, making his dirty tank top stretch across distinguished muscles.

He turned his back on her.

She immediately sprung up, lunging for the pistol. The grip in her hand sent cold relief through her arm, and she pushed herself to her feet. But when she turned around to aim, Castiel was already two steps ahead of her – he smashed his forearm into the inside of her arm, knocking the gun out of her hand and followed the motion by throwing his opposite elbow at her face. She tried to duck, but he caught her temple and she staggered to the right, her legs almost giving out under her because of the bullet wound. She caught herself on the table behind her, but he was already coming at her with quick strikes and she dodged them by a hair, trying to throw her own punches. Anger fueled her adrenaline and it was a wonder she didn't just collapse then and there. She got in a lucky strike, her knuckles making contact with his jaw, though it was only a glancing blow because the motion caused her to put too much weight on her left leg. Castiel recovered too quick and managed to capture her arms in his massive hands. She was breathing hard, glaring at him with satisfaction at seeing him also panting from exertion. She attempted to kick him and pull her arms out of his grasp, but he pulled her in closer to his chest, forcing her to look up to see his face. Castiel was angry, really truly angry – no more joking, and she could see it in the way his eyebrows were drawn downwards and the pronounced set of his jaw. She ignored the thrill of fear his icy glare sent down her spine.

"Are you fucking done?" He asked, harshly jerking her into his chest so that her arms were trapped in between them.

She tried to punch him in the chest with both of her hands, refusing to let him get the last word or strike. It was a pathetic effort that only resulted in her wrist bones getting crushed. His mouth was turned downwards, something she'd never seen before – after all it was always shaped in that irritating smirk – and it made him seem truly threatening.

So Alex did the only thing she could think of in that moment and smashed her forehead into his chin, wincing and mentally apologizing to herself in the process. Pain spiked through her skull, but it had the desired effect and he staggered away from her with a loud, '_fuck_!', his grip loosening enough on her wrists so that she could clench her fists and begin a rapid series of punches as she followed his retreat. She hissed when his blows caught the already sore side of her face, but continued fighting for what she considered was her life now. She retreated when the strain on her leg became too much, keeping her battered arms in front of her face and trying to recover her breath.

"You don't want to do this, sweetheart." His breathing was ragged.

"Don't call me that." She responded automatically, then giving him a challenging smile; there was no way she was going to back down now. "You don't know what I want."

He frowned, those eyebrows slamming together. "This is useless. You can't fight me and get away on that leg."

"Watch me." She snarled, lunging for him again.

Castiel dodged her strike so that she lurched forward from the missed momentum, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her through with the motion and spinning her around to slam her against the gate that had been behind him. The metal rungs dug into her back as he trapped her wrists above her head, fingers wrapped around her wrist bones and the rusted gate. With his other arm crushing her windpipe once again, her cry of frustration came out as a breathless squeak. She breathed harshly through her nose as he crowded her against the gate, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.

"Enough!" He growled; she squeaked again, pain spreading across her back as he forced her arms high above her head to make her stand on her tip toes.

Castiel stared her down, the tip of his nose a breath away from hers, blue eyes conveying a deadly warning. Alex stared defiantly back, squirming and resisting against the trap he'd created with his body and the gate. They breathed each other's battle-worn breaths for a few moments, each trying to kill the other with their eyes. She was sweating, her skin grown warm from her body expending so much energy, and with him so close, it was suddenly very, very hot in the room.

His voice was low and rough as he said, "Look, believe it or not, I'm not trying to hurt you, so stop trying to kill me."

Uncomfortable with him in her face, she grumbled, "Not likely."

He made a sound of exasperation and then his arm left her windpipe, shooting between her legs so he could use his free hand to grip the metal bar behind her. She cried out in surprise when he abruptly jerked his arm up, grinding roughly against her crotch as he forced her up higher against the gate. His arm provided a luscious friction as gravity compelled her body down against his arm, her feet dangling inches above the ground. The more she struggled, the harder she inadvertently grinded down on his arm, so she stopped, heat flushing through her body. She bit her lip, angry all over again with herself for feeling these wicked sensations. He was so much taller than her, but in this position she had to dip her chin to look him directly in the eye. It made her feel like a rag doll to be trapped against the gate in this way.

"Enough is enough. I saved your life." Castiel said fiercely, and she made the mistake of letting her eyes drop to his lips, dangerously close to her own. "You should be grateful."

Reminded of the fact that he had saved her life, most of her anger derailed and Alex was left once again with suspicious confusion and disgruntlement.

"Why?"

Castiel looked confused by her response. "Why what?"

Her eyebrows furrowed further. "Why are you helping me? I'm…I'm _hunting_ you."

The thunderous clouds seemed to disappear from his face completely and that light-hearted, motherfucking smirk expanded across his face. She wanted to roll her eyes and at the same time, she was relieved that he was no longer angry – the most dangerous of threats was past. And he seized the opportunity to get under her skin, ruffle a few beautiful feathers.

Castiel chuckled, and she grew apprehensive when he nuzzled the underside of her chin. "Are you sure about that?"

Alex started when she felt the rough surface of his tongue against the skin of her throat. She trembled against the gate, unsure just what was happening as he licked a scorching wet strip across the puckered line of the scar he'd created with his knife just a few days ago. Without even realizing it, she let her head fall back against the gate, baring more of her smooth throat to his salacious lips. She was overwhelmed by the need to grind against his firm arm placed conveniently between her legs. It was only when he gave a pleased hum against her throat that she realized how much she _needed_ to get _away_ from him.

She turned her head to the side in an effort to communicate her sudden revelation, struggling once again against his restraints and he drew away, looking at her lips in a way that made her stomach bottom out.

"Because I'm pretty sure _you're_ not doing _any_ hunting."

She swallowed; her throat, impossibly dry, and her body, feverish. He released his hold on the gate and she was jerked out of the haze of arousal as she flailed, dropping to the floor in a confused heap, quickly becoming irritated again. He stepped away from her and she was suddenly cold without his torrid warmth enveloping her body. She felt like she'd been yanked around by a chain. She couldn't keep up with the mood of things. One moment, he was joking like the jackass he was, the next he was angry and she was unprepared for his wrath, and the next he was doing things to her that she wasn't even sure should be legal. And that she definitely didn't appreciate. Definitely not. Alex was able to compose herself enough to pass as normal since he'd disappeared from her personal bubble. With him so close, she couldn't even think straight. And that just wouldn't do.

"I need to change your bandages."

She looked up to see him still smirking at her, and she fiercely ignored the way his muscles became even more defined when he crossed his arms across his chest. _Fucking hormones. He's a criminal and a murderer! Get yourself together, Al! _She could leave; she knew he wouldn't stop her. She could go find Dean and Sam, hoping that he would be here when she got back with the proper tools to arrest him. But in reality, she was safer sticking with Castiel for now since she knew he was very familiar with the contours of these dumps. And she had no doubt that if she were by herself, she wouldn't make it more than a couple of blocks without running into trouble again and she wasn't prepared to face that, not yet anyway.

He patted the table in the middle of the room, the same one she'd slept on last night and was still feeling the effects of judging from the pains in her shoulders and lower back. She obliged his request grudgingly and picked herself up off the ground, grumbling as she limped her way to the table. When he placed his hands on her waist to aid in her efforts in getting on the table, she slapped his hands away and snapped warningly, "Don't."

She got up on the table by using the strength of her arms to vault herself up, twisting to sit on the edge. She pushed herself the rest of the way, straightening her legs out on the table and then leaning back on her hands, giving him a dirty look. She hated the fact that she had to count on him to treat her wounds. She would do it herself, but even she knew from past experience that it was better to have someone else do it.

"Well, get on with it then."

Castiel gave her an annoyed look, but started to unravel her bandages anyway. She hissed when cool, fresh air hit the irritated, freshly sewn surface of the wound. As he pulled away the last layer of gauze, she noticed with horror that she could still see the lewd bite mark and the faint bruises outlining a large hand on the inside of her thigh. Alex looked up to see the blue of his eyes were faintly darker. His fingers traveled lightly over her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, and she held her breath. Her brain was screaming at her body to do something, anything to get him away from her, but they were disconnected at the moment – one muddled by confusion and uncertainty and the other captivated by his enticing touch. He ran two fingers over the bite mark and she tried to repress a shudder of delight. Treacherous heat pooled between her legs as memories of _that_ dream flooded her mind, unbidden. The dangerous curve on his lips should've been illegal.

She was completely thrown, unable to stop the words from bursting out of her mouth. "It wasn't a dream was it?"

He winked, "What do you think?"

Alex really wanted to throw something at his face. Castiel withdrew his hand, reaching for an antiseptic wipe and she didn't know whether she was relieved or disappointed.

Alex decided to risk her sanity. "But…you were in lockdown!"

He snorted, lifting her leg gently. "You really think a flimsy little chair will keep me from providing sexy woman with the pleasure they crave?"

She responded automatically, her words almost tripping over each other in a rush to get out. "I didn't crave it!"

He raised one eyebrow and her face grew even redder. Neither of them believed it. She held her breath as he wiped the wound, hissing when the disinfectant made contact with her torn skin. When he rubbed a little more vigorously, she half-cursed, half-whined.

"Ow, goddammit! Watch it!"

"Ow?" Cas continued cleaning the wound without any consideration for her discomfort. "I'd have thought the famous baby Winchester would be less of a pussy."

"Famous? What's that supposed to mean?" She didn't like the way he referred to her. The man in the alley had called her the same thing. "What are you – oww!"

He was wiping her fresh stitches with a dry towel and the stray threads were getting caught in them. She narrowed her eyes at him in warning.

"I've heard of you, that's all." He gave her a little half-grin, looking up at her from under his eyelashes. "You and your brothers, word gets around in federal slams…"

She knew that they had a reputation as a family. What she hadn't realized that she had developed a reputation all on her own, separate from her parents, Dean, and Sam. Just what were others saying about her?

"What kind of word?"

He smirked. "Well they never said how pretty, how…_sensitive_ you were."

She jumped suddenly when his fingers ghosted over the bite mark, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

Smacking his hand away, she scowled, "Hey pervert, wrap my leg or fuck off."

He chuckled and relented, placing his hands around her wound again and she relaxed just a teeny bit. Her arms were getting tired of propping her upper body up, so she lay back down on the table, ignoring how cold and hard the surface was against her sore back. Son of a bitch, everything hurt. She could feel acutely the black bruises on her face from where she'd been hit multiple times. It hurt to even yawn, but she did it anyway.

"Stay awake, sweetheart."

He squeezed her thigh, reprimanding, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She was getting drowsy and sleep seemed like a welcome escape from this constant state of pain all over.

"I'm just closing my eyes." She threw an arm over her face to block out the harsh lighting from above. "Just let me sleep…"

She felt him stop rolling the gauze over her leg. And then he punched her in the leg.

Alex immediately cried out in pain, furious and shocked all at once, as she jerked her head up to look at him.

"What the fuck?!"

He gave her a look and continued wrapping her leg. "I told you to stay awake."

"You didn't have to punch me!" She responded angrily, squinting against that stupid, harsh, bright light. Everything was too loud and too bright and her wounds were irritating her. Her patience was waning; it was entirely gone.

"I'm tired and I hate your face." She grumbled and lay back down again despite her misgivings about letting him treat her. "I want to sleep."

"Well you can't always get what you want." His voice was so fucking annoying.

"Fuck you."

"Would you?"

Alex groaned in disgust, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes. She couldn't believe that of all the people she was stuck with in the middle of the slums, wounded and helpless, it had to be a jackass like Castiel.

She licked her dry lips, wishing that she was back in the security of _The_ _Impala _with her brothers. The thought suddenly opened the door to a whole flood of worries. What were her brothers doing right now? Had they held their own against the men that had ambushed them? She needed to know they were okay.

With new urgency, she sat up, knocking his hands away. "Get off me. I can do it myself."

She didn't want to be anywhere near him. Everything throbbed painfully and she wished she had her gun in her hand so she could feel the satisfaction of pulling the trigger – preferably into his face.

He protested but she ignored him and tied off the bandages on her leg, ignoring the spike of agony that tortured her leg when she yanked tightly at the knots to make sure they were secure. When she swung her legs over the table, he stopped her with a hand on her thigh.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She brushed him aside and hopped down from the table, biting her lip in the effort to keep the pressure off her left leg.

"Didn't I tell you to fuck off?"

She couldn't afford to think about anything but her brothers. Everything else was second to family. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure that her brothers were either dead or out of their minds with worry. They should've found her by now. Sam had that knack of being able to find her no matter what and although it was sometimes annoying, it had saved her life on multiple occasions. She felt a fierce pang of longing and concern for her twin, her other half. Wherever Sam was, Dean ought to be. She just had to find either one of them and get away from the current threat standing in front of her and blocking her way to the door.

"And I told you I didn't like being told what to do." He responded curtly. "If you think you're going to get anywhere on that leg, you're wrong. Those are very fresh stitches, any movement and they'll rip and most likely, infection will set in."

"I don't care." She leaned heavily against the table, unable to muster the energy it would take to eliminate him as a threat. "Get out of my way."

"No."

She snapped.

"What kind of game are you playing?! Don't you get it? You're the bad guy! I'm supposed to kill you! And if I had a gun, I would, right now. That's my job. Don't think that just because you saved my life and patched me up that you get a free pass. So drop the Mr. Nice Guy act! Either kill me or get the fuck out of my way because I swear, once I find my brothers, we're going to hunt you down and we won't stop until we've got your head in a box."

She sputtered approaching the end of her rant and took a deep breath, trying to control her urge to suddenly destroy something, anything. He waited while she caught her breath, the expression on his face never changing from calm, cool, and collected. She tried to control her breathing by taking long hauls of air through her nose, staring at him in the silence that hung between them. The shadows cut across the planes of his face neatly, one eye – a dark, mysterious sapphire, and the other – a piercing, intelligent azure. She had to look away.

"Well, like I already told you, I'm not going to kill you." He said lowly and stepped closer to her, his chest touching her arms crossed against her chest. "But I'm not just going to let you walk away either."

She had breathed a silent sigh of relief hearing the affirmation of her spared life coming from his lips, because no matter what she said or how much bravado she packed into her thoughts, she was still terrified of Castiel and the enigma he presented. The second part and his proximity, however, brought all the frustration and annoyance back. She averted her eyes again and turned her head slightly to the side, uncomfortable.

"Yeah?" She asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the floor because she couldn't bare the intensity of his gaze. "And why the hell not?"

His fingers brushed the side of her neck and she jumped as she felt a prick. Her eyes snapped to his then, widening in realization. Castiel stepped away, one of the emergency needles pinched between his fingers.

The morphine kicked into her system treacherously.

"Because you're my pass into Crematoria."

* * *

**Blah.**


End file.
